


Destroying Faith

by Ares (arescased)



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, Bratting, Crisis of Faith, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Ex Sex, Face-Fucking, Father/Son Incest, Fighting Kink, Hate Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mind Break, No Aftercare, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, Quickies, Religious Guilt, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sparring, Unrealistic Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29504946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arescased/pseuds/Ares
Summary: Having Sin around Illyria Castle is quite the change after he'd been traveling with Sol for so many years. Sol has been an interesting tutor — perhaps for some of the wrong reasons. Now, Sin reminds Ky more and more of Sol everyday and it's beginning to test him in unexpected ways. In return, Sin wishes he could go adventuring with Sol again rather than deal with his father's trepidation despite being unwelcome on the journey.Someone has to break the tension.
Relationships: Ky Kiske/Sin Kiske, Sol Badguy/Ky Kiske, Sol Badguy/Sin Kiske, Sol Badguy/Sin Kiske/Ky Kiske
Kudos: 6





	1. Conflict of Interest

Castle Illyria served many functions — capital structure for the First King that stood as a beacon for the United Kingdoms in times of distress and peace.

Today, the sparring room was seeing some use. It was a rather interest section of the castle, truth be told. It served multiple functions. Not always was it needed for the training for knights. The First King frequented it to keep his skills sharp as well. Sometimes, it functioned as an extra banquet hall when there was a surplus of guests expected that could not be contained to only the main hall.

Funny to see such a decorated room while the sound of steel strikes resonated throughout it.

"Again."

A voice echoed through the marble halls of the castle just as there were puffs of air coming out of the young prince's mouth as he'd landed. Ky stood there, effortlessly twisting his sword around in his hand with the very point of it directed at Sin where he knelt.

"Again?" Sin blinked, aghast that it wasn't enough.

"Did you think we were done? I thought you'd be used to training like this with Sol. Don’t tell me he didn’t teach you anything all these years." As reluctant as he was to talk about that man, he did entrust him with looking after his son as well as subsequent training. The more he learned about everything that happened, the less he liked what he heard. He withdrew his sword from where it pointed down at Sin.

Training wasn’t anything new. To keep one’s skills sharp, they needed to be practiced and honed. Even as King, Ky knew his job wasn’t to push around paperwork all day and grow weak behind a desk. He never wished to become that either. He was never the diplomat that people painted him as. He was good around people, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it as much as that perfect smile might imply. 

He was simply very talented at playing the hand he was given. That fact didn’t make him a bad person. He did his job and genuinely cared for the kingdom — it just meant he sometimes longed for the simpler moments. Somehow, swinging a sword came much easier than politics. His son’s very existence was a rather hotly contested point in politics itself. 

That’s why he’d pawned him off — a myriad of complicated issues that begun with being pressured into becoming the First King of Illyria. He’d tossed him into Sol’s unwilling arms and prayed for the best. It was for his safety, in the end. It had only been a few short years and Sin had grown into a rather capable fighter though his nuances had yet to mature into anything of interest. It was a strange sight to see someone that appeared the part of a full-grown adult that hardly knew his times tables and believed a metronome was some sort of mythical creature that wore hats in the forest.

Strange circumstances in his life made Ky long for the times when things were as simple as slaying Gears on the battlefield. Funny where he found himself now. He’d made peace with himself, much more proud of his accomplishments these days than the man he used to be. As simple as it may have been, he was now someone that people would look up to rather than a killing machine used to slaughter without thought.

At least, that’s what he’d hoped to be in the eyes of the people. 

There was silence from the prince for a moment. Sin sighed, readying his grip on the flagpole in his hands as he retrieved it from where it was knocked from his grasp. He looked down at it as he tightened his grip. Without so much as another word, he jumped back into it. He launched himself toward Ky, flipping over top of him before going to thrust the point toward his chest.

In a flurry, Ky's blade met the metal pole and crossed with it as Sin switched hands mid-air and swept low toward his feet. His eyes grew wide with the speed in which they’d launched back into the fray. Ky took the moment's notice to try and jump out of the way as he delivered himself right into Sin's plan.

His face connected with the heel of the prince's boot as a leg was brought down in an overhead kick. He recoiled, feeling the blood rush to his head as Sin spun around to sweep him off his feet completely with his pole. His sword was launched from his grasp, sent flying across the floor as the glowing blade spun in circles with a clatter.

He watched as it flew from where he was sprawled on the ground, hand outstretched before Sin grabbed him by the coat. Sweeping him up off the ground, he was launched into the wall and pinned there by the flagpole pressed across his chest. There was a sharpness that was often left out of his tone, even in his most dangerous moments. It was more warning than calm collection.

"Sin—!" He barked, knowing a sparing match was often called once one disarmed their opponent. 

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like that unspoken rule applied here. 

The air was knocked out of him as Sin slammed him against the wall. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling rattled, threatening to fall down atop them from the sheer force as the lightning sparking from Sin's fingertip bounced off Ky's collar.

Ky didn't know what to say, eyes wide as he stared at the one eye he could see past his son's messy fringe.

In the tussle, it seemed his own hair was knocked loose from its tie. Curtains of blonde hair fell down his shoulders and in front of his face. As Sin appeared to stop the spar for the moment, they locked eyes.

Their chests rose and fell in rhythm and Ky was in awe.

There was something passionate within Sin that he knew was there... that both reminded him of himself and... that of Sol. The way he fought wasn’t careful. There was no code being followed of how to fight. It was brash and forceful with no real sense of what was happening. Often that brutish way of fighting was easy to overcome by simply out maneuvering one’s opponent — but sometimes that chaotic, unpredictable nature won out over pure skill.

Ky knew better than anyone how to deal with those who thought their strength was enough to carry them through any fight. Without bringing Sol into the conversation again — he’d gladly like to erase him from his thoughts for now, thank you — he could even think upon the likes of the Second King, Leo Whitefang. 

That man was a wall of nothing except muscles and pure drive. His head was merely a vessel to worship his rulebook and guide his body from room to room. He didn’t mean to speak poorly on a man he genuinely held the utmost respect for, but he wasn’t the most graceful fighter in the room. 

Bearing that in mind, Ky knew there was something different in the way Sin could fight. Moments ago, he was lazily swinging his flagpole around and letting himself get pushed into a corner. The drastic change is what caught him off his guard — and that fact was possibly scarier than any real foe that would chase him down.

“Sin…” Ky repeated, much softer and curious this time as to why he’d yet to release him. Just as the name brushed past his lips, Sin dropped his hand onto Ky’s waist and leaned his face in closer. The touch was like lightning beneath his skin — and it very well may have been. 

The gesture was all too alarming in even a single instance, magic or otherwise.

“What are you doing?” He snapped back with more bite than was intended. Expression twisted, he jerked back with a hand flat against the cold marble. If he could take another step back, he’d become one with the stone that prevented further passage.

Sin froze in place. The glaze in his visible eye suddenly faded, glance flicking between the eyes of his father that perfectly mirrored his own. His lips, barely parted, suddenly pressed close and his tongue flicked out to wet them as he shoved himself back away. Ky, freed from his forced surrender, looked upon his son with confusion.

Loud was the hammering away in his chest that refused to settle. There were fists at the inside of his ribcage, banging away at a locked door so hard that it dared to steal his breath once again. Taking in a deep breath, his cheek were red from the exertion of the fight.

There was silence between the two Kiske men — one looking for the right words to say and the other hoping that they were lost amongst the weeds. 

Ky took another moment, ducking his head as he reached down to retrieve his sword. His gaze locked on the blade as a welcomed distraction.

“That’s enough training for today.”

* * *

The halls of Illyria Castle were often busy with the bustle of the day’s events. Always something happening with hardly a second to waste. Even the more pleasant events were full of such arduous planning — banquets were an absolute nightmare.

The coordination of such things were left in the hands of others. Ky wanted little to do with it. He wasn’t the type who strived to make everyone happy. He was a gentleman through and through, but anyone with half a thought within those walls knew that the First King was not a man who held his tongue. He did not keep his lips silent to injustices or let wrongdoings go without punishment.

Occasionally, people may have joked that someday Ky would anger the wrong person and end up with his stomach full of hemlock.

Others warned he’d come back stronger because of it.

Ky didn’t linger on rumors and hearsay that were rather harmless in the scope of the matters he often had to deal with. He had the respect of his staff. They could make jokes though he knew the true point of it was often focused on the people they knew were at fault.

He knew he wasn’t without his issues either, however. 

He bent his knee upon the steps of the empty chapel with his sword locked away in its sheath. Gilded decor and hallowed figures lined the hall, stretching up to the heavens above. With closed eyes, he gave his silent veneration with one arm laid across his knee. He needed no service or patron of God to guide him in that moment. 

“Heavenly Father,” He uttered, “Forgive me my…”

The pregnant pause that seized control of his tongue wrenched a knot into his stomach as a wave of nausea passed over him like a tsunami. It washed over his back with guilt that fill him — encapsulating him with paralyzing fear for failure. It was his own misdeed that he’d allowed such a thing to even slide that far. 

It was a craven tendency that he’d dodged such a difficult subject simply because of the discomfort it brought him.

He begged for clarity, guidance… a push in the right direction as where to go from there. 

It had been over a day since the incident and he hadn’t seen his son anywhere since that moment. Rare was it to not see him partake in a meal even if it were in passing to take rations for himself to disappear off to enjoy them in solitude.

Partially, he believed it to be a fluke of an incident that should be forgotten about. The next time they saw each other, he could imagine that Sin would never mention it again. If he would just push it out of his mind… the way Sin’s hands so easily found his waist and gripped onto him. The spark of magic that so intuitively sparked from his fingertips. The feeling of his hot breath as he grew closer.

“Forgive me… my Sin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this an entirely self-indulgent thought that I had that went out of control? Yes. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Kudos and comments are always welcome.


	2. Denial of Self

“What do you mean take him with me?”

Normally, Ky might have all the patience in the world to speak with Sol. Over the years, he’d learned to understand the brutish man though he didn’t always agree with him. The stress of his current issue, however, made the king a bit… snappy.

“You said you were already going to be leaving soon. You’re no stranger to keeping him as company.”

The ornate, brightly decorated sitting room was hardly an environment that Sol Badguy looked natural in. It was as if someone took mud and plattered it on a white tablecloth — he stuck out. It wasn’t as if he attempted to show proper etiquette either, considering the circumstances of the invitation.

Sol wasn’t much for Ky’s…

Sol wasn’t much for Ky.

For years now, they’d been pointed enemies — looking at each other from opposite sides a battlefield. Only more recently did they stop trying to kill each other and even that was a hesitant topic to approach.

Indeed, he’d raised Sin in Ky’s absence.

That was the exact reason that caused Sol to snort and smirk at the implication. The thud of his boots as they were leisurely propped up against the polished wood of the table caught Ky’s attention in all the ways it shouldn’t have. “Down.”

Commands were never the way to get Sol to listen, unfortunately.

Sol exchanged glances with Ky — both with their own uniquely pointed stare. “A favor and a command?” He questioned. He slowly dragged his boots off the table, making sure to rub a mark into the surface as he did. Ky could feel his skin crawl at the audacity of the move.

Before a retort could leave his mouth, Sol was already talking.

“Why do you want me to take him all of a sudden? Isn’t he supposed to live here with you now that everyone’s looking up to you? Everyone thinks you’re hot shit — don’t even care about your dirty little secret or any skeletons in your closet. I thought you’d want to keep him around. Maybe even raise the next King in your image.” He could laugh at the very thought of Sin in a position of power.

The kid was resilient and had a lot of potential, but he was dumber than bricks at times. Of course, he was still young. Just because he was part Gear didn’t mean he was naturally very bright.

Ky wished this conversation were easier. He wanted to pawn off this problem and wash his hands of it. Sin would come back in a few years, perhaps. All those strange feelings might leave him by then. It was rare that he felt so uncomfortable even speaking. He shifted around, trying to gain the composure to explain.

“Sin… when we were sparring the other day, he tried to make an advance on me. I believe it’s for the best if he goes with someone who might better be able to teach him the rights and wrongs of such actions, that I might trust you to— Are you _laughing_?”

The deep rumble that erupted from Sol’s mouth was enough to stop the king from explaining any further. His mouth hung agape, Ky didn’t know what to say to such disrespect. “This isn’t funny! He shouldn’t be interested in such things with his own father and I can’t—”

“The kid’s been that horny for years now. Surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

Ky could only blink in absolute awe of what he was hearing.

“Come again?”

* * *

Ky didn’t know what to say. It felt like he’d left his body behind and his soul was aimlessly wandering from room to room. There was nothing left to ground him after being regaled with the fact that his son had been engaging in such reckless affairs for the better part of his entire life.

He’d left Sol before he could even gather his thoughts enough to remember which way the door opened. All he wished to do was understand what he was going to do.

Once, he’d been forced to take up the mantel of the First King. From there, he was molded into the image that everyone expected and somewhere along the way, he even began to enjoy his work. He took pride in helping his people thrive.

Now, he had a little bastard that was screwing his own grandfather.

Oh, it sickened him to remember that he was somehow related to Sol Badguy, even if narrowly avoided by blood.

Lord forgive him, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such punishment that he hadn’t already repented for. What heinous crime had he not begged forgiveness for that was now coming around to bite him in the ass?

He felt dirty as if he needed to scrub his mind and body til it was raw. He retired to his chambers with the door closed behind him. He was sure that in his stupor, there must have been those about the castle that needed his attention though he hadn’t the mindset to address it.

He sighed, sinking down onto his knees at the foot of his bed. He rested his forehead upon the duvet with a hefty sigh. What was he to do? He couldn’t figure out where to go from here. He needed guidance from anyone but knew that not another soul could learn the truth. God forbid Dizzy find out this news. Even Leo would have his head for it and uproot him from his position for daring indulge such actions.

Still, as he sat there — he found his mind beginning to open Pandora’s box the same way it had when the action first occurred.

He could feel Sin’s hot breath on his face. It was surprisingly not as unpleasant as he’d expect from someone who shoved his mouth with greasy fish and mutton. There was actually a sweetness about it as if he’d just finished eating pudding from the kitchens.

There was a bit of sweat on his brow from exertion — the fringe hanging down in front of his eyepatch caught on his forehead in the dampness. His midriff glistened in the bit of sunlight trickling in from the stained glass windows of the hall where his shirt had rolled up even farther than usual for his attire.

His strong grip upon Ky’s hip, pressing down on him. He’d gotten so strong in his time away. How easily he could overtake him when pressed to go even harder. Those few inches between them was nothing. If he could only lean closer, closing that small distance to see if he might taste the sweetness upon his lips. He might figure out if it were the pudding or the infamous sugar water that Sol had been feeding him for years, perhaps….

Ky groaned, face buried in the fabric of his sheets as one hand hung between his legs were he could feel a growing discomfort within his trousers. The dancing daydream playing in his head only served to make it worse, almost feeling himself being shoved up again the cool stone. He wondered how far Sin may have gone if he hadn’t spoken up.

Would he have pinned him there, pushing their lips together for a kiss? Would he have dared touch him anywhere else? How much had Sol taught him that he was so sure of his son’s sexual exploitations?

“This is wrong. This is **beyond** wrong. It is a scathing wound upon my heart and soul that I’m thinking such things.” Ky suddenly shot up without realizing his palm was pressing up again the painful urge of his dick getting excited at such thoughts.

Cold shower… he _needed_ a cold shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ky has some interesting daydreams... unfortunately.


	3. Jealous Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not a ton of plot going on in this chapter, but it's a whole lot of horny with some character introspection!

“So, you’re showing your old man your bucket of tricks, huh?”

Sin jolted upright from where he was sitting by the steps of the castle. His flagpole resided nearby, carefully folded up as to not attract attention nor trip anyone walking by. He had his knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped securely around them.

He forced a smile onto his face though it appeared quite effortless for him. “The only old man I see around here is you.” 

Sol rolled his eyes, crossing the courtyard in only a few short strides. “Not me, you dumbass.” He sighed, shifting his gun over to his shoulder. “Your father just had an audience with me.” He explained with a snort. He hated the pompous way it all sounded when he came near this damned place. He wasn’t one for regiment and etiquette the way people demanded of him. “C’mon. We’re taking a walk.” 

It was second nature that Sin listened to him, jumping up from his place as following as Sol turned tail and began walking away from the castle proper. His heart was in his throat, wondering what happened between the two that had to do with him. “What did he say?”

“Do I really need to say it?”

Sin grew quiet, dragging his flagpole down toward his feet.

Sol wasn’t much for consoling any worries and babying him like some little kid. That much had been pretty obvious since the moment he’d taken over as his caretaker. That sentiment stood true even as Sin was now Ky’s problem — in more ways than one. 

He sighed as he dragged a hand through his hair. It was still amusing to him that Ky took it so harshly, but now it was somewhat his problem to deal with though even fiber of his being told him to just watch and see what happened.

What tethered him to this damn family?

Sometimes he wondered how simple things would be if he were to leave it all and become a hermit somewhere far, far away from it all. Sadly, it would mean he’d have to figure out how to make his own liquor. 

It was more complicated than that. He only liked to think of it in its simplest form. It meant there were less headaches to plague him. He didn’t need to check that Sin was still trailing behind him. He could hear his footsteps in tandem with his own. 

“Ky was saying about how you two were fighting the other day. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d have it in you to actually go head-to-head with him yet.” He commented, always digging on Sin’s skills though often he found himself mildly impressed with the competition he put up. The last thing he wanted was the kid developing an ego and start getting cocky. “Said afterwards, you started to get handsy with him.”

He shifted his glance, trying to catch a look at the young Gear from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t quite make out what was on his mind. Rarely was Sin abashed and unable to respond like this. “It’s fucking hilarious.” Sol admitted, “I haven’t seen Ky that worked up in years.”

It seemed to at least get Sin to look at him again. For some reason, his approval meant something to him.

“He didn’t let you have any fun, did he?”

It was rhetorical, of course. He knew that Ky didn’t indulge the sheer instinct that came with Sin’s drive — in all the forms that it came in. 

As they walked farther away from the limits of the castle grounds, they were lost amongst the beautifully trimmed gardens. Where they were used to, it was all desert and sand. Here in the heart of Illyria, they had swaths of green foliage and beautiful flowers that decorates the courtyard. A whole staff of gardeners and other botanical experts were recruited to keep up with it. It was rare to see the place so empty. 

A breeze whipped through the garden, cascading off the tall towers of the castle to wind through the trees and bushes. The labyrinthine hedges coasted it, blowing Sol’s hair into spirals and forcing him to tighten the tie holding his hair back.

Sin found himself staring at his feet again. The look on his father’s face was burned on the inside of his eyelids. His expression was twisted with disgust and disappointment as he jerked back and dismissed him in an instant.

What was wrong with what he did?

No matter how much he tried to run it back in his head, he didn’t see the issue. Where he once held contempt for Ky, he was trying to forge a new relationship with him. He wanted to become someone that he could be proud of the same way he’d been trying to prove himself in Sol’s eyes though he didn’t put it so many words.

Suddenly, the loud thump of Sol’s sword hitting the dirt was enough to catch his eye.

It wasn’t long after that in which Sin found himself slammed up against the wrought iron fence. The surge of pain from his head bashing against the hard metal was enough to give him some whiplash though he’d been through much worse abuse in his time with Sol. His shirt was snatched up in Sol’s fist, pinned there with his feet barely off the ground. His flag went clattering to the ground in the process. He kicked out relentlessly as was instinct to get away, “Let go of me, old man!” 

Begging never made much headway when it came to Sol. 

“Oh, now you want to talk to me.” Sol spoke with a scoff. His expression was nothing if not unamused. “You look like a kicked puppy dog. That shit gets old real quick.” There was never much compassion to be had after the years hardened the mercenary through pure spite and abuse. 

Maybe it was that none of them knew how to interpret Sol outside of that rough and tumble way he spun everything.

Sin wasn’t much for interpretation of other people. He could hardly figure out why his father was so upset with him, let alone perform psychoanalysis on Sol Badguy of all people. First, he’d have to learn how to spell psychoanalysis.

The young Gear pouted, amping up the pained look on his face. His eyebrows forced wrinkles onto his forehead, “No one said you had to get involved.”

“Ky’s made it my problem. He said he wants you to come back with me.” For some reason, that sentiment filled Sin with vastly differing emotions. On one hand, most of his life was spent with Sol. It was most of what he knew. It was how he learned to cook (sort of), clean, fight… the long nights in the desert where he’d huddle up next to Sol before getting thrown ten yards across the sand for getting on his nerves. 

Still, he’d gotten to him. It was when he’d overstepped his boundaries a few too many times. Sol would be up at the wee hours of the night, hunched over near the fire. His hand covering his face, the other would be make busy work of the painful erection that had struck him and made it impossible to sleep. That’s when Sin had gotten curious. The first time, he didn’t make much noise. 

It was enchanting. The slick movement of his hand back and forth. Short, staccato breaths leaving the old man more flustered than any battle he’d seen him in. The shine of the head of his cock from the hot, fiery glow was somehow all the entertainment that Sin needed as he watched from his sleeping place only feet away. 

The first time, he watched. The second time, he grew bolder. As Sol ducked his head in what could only be assumed was shame for what he was doing, Sin crawled on all fours closer to him. He reached out, folding his hand overtop of Sol’s with the biggest grin on his face. Sol could still remember the sing-song tone of his voice as he asked if he could take a turn.

It only got worse from there.

Sin didn’t know any better and Sol didn’t have the energy to teach him otherwise.

The complicated web they weaved only got worse. There was no one out there to stop them — Sol got the much needed relief he craved and Sin learned a thing or two about his body. It only got worse the older Sin got. It was no longer Sin waking up to Sol jacking off, but Sol feeling the way Sin rustled around with his belts and tried to figure out how a zipper worked in the dark without so much as trying to wake him up. 

However, they weren’t in the middle of the desert anymore. 

They were in the castle garden just barely out of the eyes of the public. Sin wrestled against Sol’s grasp, “What’s the big deal? So I come back with you! I don’t need to be here.” He whined, “He won’t even have fun with me.” His voice dropped, still disappointed with the evolution of all this. Sol sighed, “You can’t be messing with him like that. Folks don’t fuck with their parents. You can’t be touching him like that.”

The gears in Sin’s head began to turn.

“What’s that mean for us, old man?”

Sol furrowed his brow, “This isn’t about us. This is about you and Ky.” 

“You just said yourself it was funny! And if parents don’t fuck and you’re my grandfather—”

The noise that left Sol’s mouth was utterly infuriated. “Let’s get this straight. Parents fuck. We fucked, but I’m not your parent. You don’t fuck your parents. It was hilarious watching Ky squirm around like a little school boy, but that doesn’t mean you should be coming onto him. He’ll ship you off with me and you’ll be stuck with me again in the middle of nowhere, not knowing where your next meal’s gonna come from. You won’t have that cushy bed anymore, you’ll be away from your mother, didn’t you want all that?”

For a second, Sol thought that maybe the essence of a thought was passing behind Sin’s eyeballs — gently caressing his that smooth brain of his.

“That’s not all that bad! We always figured out what we were gonna eat in the end and you gave me sugar water to make up for it. I can always ask mom to come see me! You might make me carry stuff around all the time, but at least it’s easier to get you all riled up!” He flashed a grin, seemingly not as bothered by the fact he was now dangling nearly a foot off the ground as Sol shoved his face even closer. 

“Can you think with that head of yours instead of your dick for once?”

Sin blinked with his smile vanishing for a brief second before it came back in full-force, “Can you?”

Sol was just about to throw him over the fence and forget it. He could book it halfway across the kingdom before Ky could shove Sin in his arms and make him deal with it. Before he could act, he felt Sin’s legs wrap around his waist. His arms shot out, tethering himself around Sol’s neck. Sol jerked his head away, “This isn’t my problem, kid.” 

“I can be your problem.” Sin chimed, locking his ankles behind the merc’s back and leaning in closer as he pressed his lips squarely against Sol’s. It was that messy, haphazard way he always kissed. He was clumsy with it and always led with too much tongue that made it seem like he was trying to eat him alive. Unwillingly, Sol groaned — more in frustration than anything else.

Yet, he didn’t wind up tossing the kid away.

Instead, he released his death grip on his shirt and pressed his body fully in against Sin’s with the fence as his brace. One hand swept beneath Sin’s ass and stopped him from sliding down off. The other lost itself in Sin’s hair, pulling his head back far enough to stop him from shoving his tongue down his throat. “Enough with the tongue.” He growled out. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” Sin teased, knowing very well what would happen. He lazily dangled his arms over Sol’s shoulders now that he was supported by the jagged metal bars. He licked his lips, head cocked to the side as he rolled his hips forward. 

“Holy shit, I’m gonna kill you.”

Sin hummed with a hint of satisfaction behind it. 

This was hardly the place for them to be getting into it. An optimal place was the middle of fucking nowhere with not a soul to be seen. Here, there could be any unsuspecting citizen just wandering the premises while awaiting a meeting.

Still, there was a certain point where Sol didn’t care to be proper.

He just wanted to put Sin back in his place. He wanted to wipe the cocky smirk off his face and make him beg for it to stop. He could tear him apart and put him back together better than his father ever could. He didn’t even need to spare a glance downward to know the exact place where he needed to unbuckle and unsnap various accouterments adorning the young prince’s trousers to pull them down just far enough. 

Sol fussed with his own pants, the V in his zipper was just enough room to free his cock. The only reason Sin became painfully aware of its presence was when the tip of it pressed up against him. He didn’t seem deterred regardless, nearly purring as he nuzzled his neck up against Sol’s neck and nosed up against his ear. “See? It’s so easy to get you all worked up— AaH!” 

Oh, how satisfying it was to see the immediate payout of karma. It was as soon as Sol managed to line himself up that he swiftly impaled Sin down on his cock by merely dropping him down onto it. 

Sin struggled to keep himself from bottoming out atop it, hands clammering to brace himself upon Sol’s shoulders and yank himself back up. His ass burned from the sudden abuse though a pleasureful spark it sent racing down his spine made up for it entirely.

He could almost feel himself rolling his eyes back in his head. The intense heat that immediately filled him from head to toe was that addicting sensation that always had him itching for more, more, more— 

Holding him in place were two giant hands clamping down on his waist. Sol pressing him back up against the fence, Sin was braced for the worst of it the moment he felt a moment of reprieve before the true abuse was about to begin.

How funny that Sin believed he could truly bottom out on Sol’s cock without proper preparation — for all the time they spent together out there, Sol was led to believe that he might carve out his own personal fuckhole in Sin. The countless time he spent preparing and stretching him out in order to get him to take his full length. It was a Sisyphean task even for a young man whose body was specifically designed to take constant abuse. By the time they’d finish, Sin’s ass would already have done most of the work in repairing itself for the second round.

Always another round — another go at it. One was never enough to sate either of their urges. Sometimes just to shut Sin up, he’d have to fuck him until his body couldn’t fix him fast enough. He’d reduce him to a drooling, catatonic mess with his ass throbbing and glowing from the sheer amount of torture it went through with his seed spilling out of every part of him.

Alas, they didn’t have the time nor did Sol have the patience. 

Instead, he’d force his way in and shut Sin up.

“When will you learn…” Sol gritted his teeth, thrusting up again as he stole the breath right out of Sin’s mouth, “That I want to be—” Pulling out once more, he followed up even harder as Sin tossed his head back and threw his hands over his head to hold onto the fence in an attempt pull himself to safety. The stars that appeared in his vision could almost convince him that nightfall was upon them.

“Alone!”

It was impossible for him to get away from this — not that he truly wanted to. He always wanted to play into the hand that Sol laid out for him. He wanted to defy him only to be dragged back in, kicking and screaming the whole way. Something inside him always wanted itched beneath his skin to want to push his buttons just to see what would happen.

Every time, Sol managed to awaken every masochistic bone in in his body. 

“S— Sol!” Sin gasped, feeling the tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he was repeatedly bounced up and down. The jackhammer of Sol’s hips against his ass were enough to make him dizzy, tongue lolling out with every gasp for air as he tried to stop himself from drooling all over himself. 

Was this regret? Part of him missed the way Sol needed him — how he had no other option but to shove his dick in him because it was only the two of them. Now, Sol didn’t act like he needed him. He wasn’t around.

At first, Sin was happy to be around his family. He got to spend time with his mom and dad. He was getting used to life like this. There was a growing emptiness in his stomach, though. One that missed roughing it with Sol out in the middle of nowhere, tracking down foes that once felt way out of their league.

There was a sense of wildness that was lacking. There were rules he didn’t understand. People used words he didn’t know. They all expected him to learn things he didn’t care about and scolded him when he did things wrong.

The scolding wasn’t much different from how Sol treated him. Ky might not have shackled him with a collar and chain, but at least the old man more or less let him do what he wanted. He could eat whatever he wanted, fuck whenever he wanted, and there were less rules. 

Right now, it didn’t feel like it used to feel.

“I should walk right into that stupid fuckin’ castle with you riding on my dick, just to let your dad see you like this — crying and begging for my cock like a little bitch.” The Gear goaded, “Look at you, fuckin’ pathetic… Drunk on me, always crawling back for more. I’m the only thing that can get you to act like this, huh?”

Sin could feel his dick aching in his pants, still completely trapped with absolutely no relief to be found. His toes were curled inside his boots. He pathetically clung to the wrought iron as Sol used him like a doll of his own making. He shoved himself deep inside though he could tell it was only half his length yet it still reached deep inside him that his belly burned with the wave threatening to crash over him. 

“Pl— please, old man…” His voice vibrated as he whimpered. His balls ached from neglect, yearning for some sort of touch. He couldn’t hold himself from falling limp.

“What? You want to fuck your own hand?” Sol scoffed. It was difficult to tell if he garnered any pleasure from this at all. The way he appeared more angry than satisfied, repeated thrusting harder and faster as if he were trying to shove Sin right through the fence completely. 

“Who said I was going to let you cum, huh? You’re the one who said it was easy to get me all horny.” The low, bassy growl of his tone was serious. “Yet you’re the one here begging like a bitch in heat.” The shred of red glowing in his eyes gave a glimpse into that part long repressed. “Doesn’t mean I need to finish you off. Finish yourself — but not before I fill you to the brim.” 

There was a point where Sin couldn’t make another sound, he was just mindlessly trying to keep himself from falling. He managed to push himself toward Sol, arms wrapping around his neck and burying his face in against his shoulder where he whimpered and clung to him for dear life.

That pain and anguish only fueled the fire. Sol’s pace only hurried, adding more abuse to the hole he’d already stretched wide enough to fit most his length even without any special attention. 

Then all of a sudden, the burning only spread deeper as Sol came inside him and his hands trapped him down onto his dick to accept the entirety of it. The thrusting stopped and all of Sol’s strength went into shoving Sin down farther and farther. Sin sucked in a deep breath, mouth agape as he felt his muscles twitching. 

His dick screamed for attention behind the layers of fabric that could barely hold everything back. Yet, his chin was propped on Sol’s shoulder, staring at the grass. The contrast of it all struck him when he realized how peaceful everything around them remained. His face was red and flushed from the exertion, nails dug into the old Gear’s back though he hardly made a scratch on him. 

Only after Sol finished completely was he unceremoniously lifted off his cock and dropped onto the ground with his pants just barely pulled to expose his ass still. He could feel the cum leaking out from inside him, ass twitching from the sudden emptiness it felt. He felt spent and he hadn’t even climaxed himself. The little ‘oof’ that left his mouth when he landed was all he said, reeling from it all.

When he managed to lift his glance, he saw that Sol was still hard. 

His heart surged in his chest, watching the strings of cum drip from the tip. 

What was he supposed to do with that now? Sin could hear the nonstop pounding in his chest in his ears now, not having the energy to move let alone say something. “Geez, sitting around in Ky’s dollhouse all day’s made you weak.” Sol spit off to the side, one hand lazily stroking his cum-soaked cock and the other lost in his hair to push it off his face where pieces began to fall down from all the fuss. “You’ve taken more than that and we both know it.”

Sin’s attention remained fixated on Sol’s cock, subconsciously finding himself drooling once again. A hand forced its way against his throat, forcing him to look up. “Tch, the only thing you think with more than your dick is your stomach.” Sol shoved his cock up against Sin’s lips that were shiny after he’d licked them. Smearing cum across his face, he pushed past those lips and felt the warm heat of his mouth engulf the head of it. 

Instantaneously, all the thoughts left Sin’s head once again. If he’d learned anything, it was to not think at all when Sol was having his way with him. 

In stark contrast, Sol couldn’t stop thinking. Even with his head fueled with such anger, he couldn’t get the satisfaction of it all from breaking Sin down so easily. He played the part of a brat, but there was no push back once he molded him in his hands like putty.

While his hatred for Ky still ignited something deep in his stomach, he longed for his spark — the bolt of lightning that jumped from his skin with a single glance. The man who once struck fear into his heart. He wanted a real fight from him. He wanted to grab hold of him and bury him underneath his foot. 

There was a part of him that was jealous for just how close Sin got but missed the mark.

Sin was the Kiske he took his frustrations out on.

He pushed farther into Sin’s mouth, feeling him tense as he got close to choking him. Sin quickly latched his hands onto the thick of Sol’s thighs with his nails digging in hard enough to break skin. 

Sol could feel the spark of Sin magic as he was threatened, perking an eyebrow. “What, are you gonna fight back finally?” He taunted, wishing for him to put up a fight.

Suddenly, Sol’s eyes grew wide as he felt more than just a spark from his fingertips. He grabbed both side of Sin’s head, thrusting into his mouth. “No teeth, you little bastard!” 

Sin could hardly muster a gasp from the way his mouth was entirely occupied though Sol could almost feel him smirking.

“Fine. You want to play hardball?”


End file.
